


Poker Face

by spikewriter



Series: A Symphony of Ten [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikewriter/pseuds/spikewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poker Face

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day Five of my 2009 Advent Calendar on LiveJournal. Edited for posting here.

Martha Jones had reached a point where she’d learned to expect anything from her travels with the Doctor.  Almost anything; finding herself around a poker table on a small outpost at the edge of some system at the back end of nowhere was not something even her experience in the TARDIS had prepared her for.

“I will see you and raise five.” Chips into the pot as Martha considered her cards, thankful for the American exchange student at university who’d had a passion for Texas Hold ‘Em and taught everyone in the dorm for the purposes of fleecing them to supplement his income. To his dismay, Martha and several others had proved quite adept and managed to keep their money in their pocket.

That had been several years ago, though, and her skills a bit rusty. Still, she was holding her own, her pile of chips managing to remain steady with small ups and downs. Given that the Doctor had produced the chips for her use, she figured it’d be a good idea to not simply blow everything on one hand. So, when her turn came, she met the bid, knowing that if the bet went much higher, she’d be folding.

That left the Doctor. “Bet, bet, bet,” he muttered, almost to himself, longer fingers tapping his cards. “To bet or not to bet; that is the question.”

“Which is hopefully going to be answered at some point before the next century,” one of the others said. “Are you in or out?”

“Oh, always in. I’ll see that five — and raise you twenty.”

He gleefully tossed the chips into the pile — and almost everyone else tossed their cards in.

Out of the game for the moment, Martha couldn’t help watching the Doctor as he faced down the only other remaining player. One thing she’d learned over the course of the games at uni was that everyone had a “tell", something that gave a hint of how their hand was doing or if they were completely bluffing. What was the Doctor’s tell, she wondered. He was tugging at his right ear; did that mean he had the cards he needed or was he bluffing? She was willing to bet he was bluffing just because of all the times she’d watched him bluff his way out of the most amazing situations. Probably one of the reasons he was good at poker, she thought, considering the ever-growing pile of chips in front of him; he never revealed what he was really thinking.

Another raise, and then another. Finally, the other man called, and they both laid their hands down. Even without the river card being revealed, it was clear the Doctor didn’t have what it took to win. Tugging his right ear means he’s bluffing; that’s his tell.

The next round, she bid against him when he tugged that ear again, testing that theory — and found herself faced with an inside straight that took most of her chips. When the game was over and they headed back to the TARDIS, the Doctor’s winnings stuffed in his pockets, she couldn’t help saying, “I can’t figure you out. Every time I think I can read you, you go and do something different.”

“Martha, I’ve been playing poker for, oh, five hundred years or so — I know how to hide my tells.”

“It’s not just that; it’s —” She stopped. “It’s like I never see your real face. Sometimes I think you’re just wearing a series of masks and you change them you feel like you need to.”

He turned, one eyebrow lifted as he considered her. “Martha Jones, I think you know me better than anyone I’ve met in a long time.”

For just a moment, she had a hint of what lay beneath those masks, age and weight and sorrow. There was a darkness there as well, but that lasted for just a moment before he grinned and was moving once more. “Now, I have a pocket full of money and I fancy a meal. Do you fancy one? I know a place on Sestrus IV that serves this fantastic — well, it’s like an empanada, or maybe a calzone. Maybe a calzone because that’s bigger, isn’t it? Just fire up the TARDIS and we’ll hop over that, making certain to avoid the revolutions, of course. The second one wasn’t so bad, but the third one, well, we need to try to avoid that.”

As he rattled on, Martha considered it was going to take a long time to figure this man out — and she wasn’t going to play poker with him again if she had to provide the stake.


End file.
